


Best Laid (Lesson) Plans

by QueenDollopHead



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Modern AU, Multi, Teacher AU, Zuko (Avatar) Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:35:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27444235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenDollopHead/pseuds/QueenDollopHead
Summary: After a massive career change, Zuko is introduced to the Gaang as the new math teacher at Ba Sing Se High School. Sokka and his friends help Zuko acclimate to the school culture, but as Zuko reluctantly becomes more comfortable with his new co-workers, he fears that his fresh start is doomed to fail. Just like all the rest.
Relationships: Aang/Katara (Avatar), Minor or Background Relationship(s), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar), The Gaang & Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 23
Kudos: 94





	1. The Favor – August

With only one full week left before school starts, Sokka manages to get his “new school year” prep done in record time.

His sister had lectured him about putting it off ‘til the last minute, but he knew those extra beach days helped cushion the blow of arriving this morning to find a dusty, stale classroom. Still, it didn’t take long to crack a few windows, pop some of the fallen posters back onto the wall (twice laminated, obviously), and reorganize his desk and textbooks. He was in the middle of updating last years’ lesson plans when a female voice clicks on over the speaker in his classroom.

 **_*Sokka Tribe please report to the Guidance Department. Sokka to Guidance. Thank You.*_ **

A smile tugs at his lips– surely Iroh must have been waiting for him to finally show up at school. Back in his third year of teaching, Aang had bet him that his homeroom class of sophomores would raise more money for the annual Dance-a-Thon than Sokka’s juniors. When Sokka ended up losing– _How does a first year teacher manage to raise half of the school’s **entire** fundraising goal all by himself !? _– his concession was that he had to help supervise the Pai Sho club. And while Sokka was devasted to be forced into something so incredibly _boring_ , he found a great friend in Iroh. He even had gained a new appreciation for games of strategy and loose-leaf tea.

Now a 6-year teacher, Sokka no longer works with the Pai Sho team, but visits Iroh’s office as often as he can during the school year. The man is incredibly wise, and has a great way of putting even the largest of issues into perspective. Sokka always joked that he could certainly be running this school if he ever wanted to, but Iroh didn’t want the responsibility. He wanted to be hands-on with the staff and students, but didn’t want to deal with the nonsense of the parents and the board of education.

Sokka knocks twice on his door before entering. “Hey Iroh!”

The old man raises his head, returning the smile before stepping out from behind his desk to grasp him in a hug. “Sokka, it is very good to see you!”

Sokka squeezes him back in return. Iroh returns to his seat and Sokka plops into the chair across from him, propping his feet up on the far corner of the desk behind his monitor. Iroh looks at him fondly and continues. “I assume your summer was good?”

The history teacher nods. “Great, yeah! Lot of beach time, lot of family time… good stuff!”

He felt very much at home in Iroh’s office. His walls were decorated with motivational posters– humble, reassuring words, some which, Sokka bets, were written by Iroh himself. The edge of his desk had an assortment of knick-knacks; bobbleheads, stress balls, a snow globe– all to help struggling students put their minds at ease while he spoke to them. Sokka reaches for his favorite object– a hand painted mug that reads “for you’re Tea” on the side that faced outward, and on the side that faced Iroh– “besT uncLe ever! <3”. The combination of its childish choice of colors, random capitalization, messy handwriting and grammar was incredibly endearing– so much love was put into this little trinket. As he turns it over in his hands, he knows that Iroh had never had a single cup of tea in it– he couldn’t risk ruining the fragile paint job.

He carefully places the mug back in its place, orienting it properly before returning the question. He listens eagerly as Iroh details the adventures of his summer– cruising through the islands, driving a Segway for the first time, and even entering shark cage in tropical waters. The two laugh as they reminisce, a half hour easily passing by without his realizing. Finally, Iroh pauses, fixing Sokka with a more serious gaze.

“I am afraid that I asked you down here for a little more than just catching up,” Iroh confesses. “I have a favor to ask of you.”

Sokka nods immediately. “Anything,” he tells him in earnest. “What do you need?”

“I would greatly appreciate it if you could keep an eye on my nephew.”

“Oh, of course!” He quickly eyes the mug. “He’s a freshman this year, then?”

At this, Iroh barks out warm belly-laugh. “No, no,” he assures. “Though he is sometimes moody like a teenager!”

Sokka huffs out a laugh at the joke, but smiles eagerly at his friend as he waits for him to continue. “He’s a new teacher at this school, and I’m worried that he isn’t the best at making first-impressions.”

The pieces of information Iroh had given him over the years click into place. “Ah okay, Zuko, right? The accounting guy?”

“Yes,” Iroh confirms. His smile is sadder, etched with parental fondness and concern. “He’s had a lot of trouble finding his path, and now that he’s found it… I don’t want him to get discouraged. He doesn’t always know when to ask for help.”

Sokka nods again– he knew the type. Every year he spent most of September and October encouraging his students to speak up– engage with the content, critically analyze the lens, ask questions. It was a bit of pet peeve when the quietest students ended up with the lowest test scores– simply because they were too shy to drop into his classroom after school or send an email. “We can work on that,” Sokka promises. “I’ll make sure he feels welcome here.”

“Thank you,” Iroh reaches across the table to squeeze Sokka’s hand. “I believe he’s already gone home for the day, but– ”

“I’ll meet him tomorrow then, no problem!” He stands up to leave, unwrapping a lemon drop from the candy dish on his desk and popping it into his mouth. “Have a good day, Iroh!”

* * *

The next morning, Sokka arrives in the cafeteria, coffees in tow, and tells his closest friends and coworkers about Iroh’s nephew.

“Wait, so he studied accounting?” Toph frowns at him as she accepts the beverage. “Does he even want to be a teacher?”

Sokka shrugs down at her. “Probably? Iroh didn’t say too much.”

“The more the merrier, I always say!” Aang chirps happily. Katara rolls her eyes beside him.

“Last time you said that was when you tried to get June to come to Karaoke night...” She reminds, elbowing him playfully. “Remember how well that went?”

Sokka tosses out the cardboard holder before returning to the table, leaning against it as he addresses his sister. “To be fair, I have impeccable taste, and none of _my_ group recommendations have flopped.” Only Toph laughs at that.

“I guess,” Katara rolls her eyes. “But how can you vouch for someone that you haven’t even met?”

“Easy!” Sokka announces, digging out his phone. He quickly unlocks it, scrolling briefly before shoving the phone in her face. “Because he made _that_ as a kid! How cute is that?”

Aang leans over Katara’s shoulder to look at the picture, his eyes going as wide as Sokka’s as he adores the picture of the mug. But Katara was always determined to be a stick in the mu– erm, _voice of reason_. “It’s cute,” she concedes warily. “But he was just a kid then, no one is how they were when they were kids.”

Aang was quietly describing the mug to Toph when Katara’s words interrupted his train of thought. He turns to her and grins. “No one?” he teases.

Katara considers each of her friends and her brother carefully, then groans. “Oh my god,” she says. “I’m the only one who grew up!”

“Grew _boring_ is more like it!” Toph says.

Their warm laughter is interrupted by the cool voice of the vice principal. Sokka shoves his phone back into his pocket before turning around– far too quickly to appear casual. Mai had only been Vice Principal for about a year, but her transition had been nearly seamless. She was confident, level-headed, and stern, but it was clear that she cared deeply about her staff and students.

“Everyone,” she addresses their group. “I’d like to introduce you to Zuko Embers, he’s our newest addition to the math department.”

Standing behind her was the way over-dressed nephew of the head of guidance. Zuko looked as if he were interviewing for the position of CEO rather than showing up for a lame old professional development day. Sokka idly wonders if he had worn the same kind of stuffy suit to set up his classroom over the last few days. The only things about him that didn’t scream ‘executive’, were his posture– shoulders hunched nervously and body rigid with tension– and his hair. His slightly too-long hair which flopped over his left eye– seemingly to hide glimpse of red he saw behind his locks– perhaps a childhood scar?

“Hello,” the newbie croaks, waving awkwardly. “Zuko here.”

The four cheer back their ‘hellos’, returning his apprehension with gentle enthusiasm. Mai nods at them before turning back to shy teacher. “Let’s find your department head, in your first few weeks you’ll be working–”

“Why don’t you sit with us?” Aang suggests.

Mai and Zuko both turn their heads to the bald teacher, but it is Mai who responds. “I need to get him set up with the rest of the math department, so that they can go over curriculum objectives.”

“Psh,” Sokka scoffs, waving his hand. “He can meet them during the team meetings this afternoon.”

“Yeah,” Toph agrees. “Let the guy have some fun this morning before he gets stuck with old fuddy-duddies on the _math_ team.”

Mai looks ready to reject them outright, before Sokka cuts her off. “Come on, Veep!” he smirks, opening his arms wide. Mai frowns. 

Zuko regards them warily, his gaze falling to Katara. _‘Veep?’_ he mouths to her.

Katara merely rolls her eyes. It brings a small smile to Zuko’s face. Sokka continues. “You know you can trust him with us, your _best_ teachers! We’ll make sure he’s on the up-and-up.”

The vice-principal looks to her new teacher once more, who only shrugs minutely in return. Finally, she sighs her acquiesce. “Fine,” turning to Zuko once more, she nearly smirks at him in mock-pity. “You’ll have a headache before the end of the day,” she warns him. “But you’re in good hands all the same.”

“Thanks Mai,” he says. She nods minutely before striding away.

Sokka ushers him to sit. “First name basis with our Vice Principal already, huh? You’re not a brown-noser are you?”

“No more than you,” Zuko scoffs. “We’ve known each other since we were kids.” He pauses. “And you are…?”

“Oh! I’m Sokka, I teach history,” he points to his friends. “My sister Katara here teaches lit, Aang teaches home ec., and Toph is our coolest PE teacher!”

“And don’t you forget it!” Toph grins. “So, is this your first teaching gig?”

Zuko shakes his head. “It’s my third year,” he admits.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Katara begins. “But you seem a bit old to only be a third year…” She ignores Sokka’s glare from across the table.

“Yeah…” Zuko chuckles awkwardly. “I studied accounting, but when I couldn’t make it in at one of the big firms…” his voice wavers, if only slightly, but Sokka catches it. He can see Toph caught it, too. “I knew it wasn’t for me. So, I had to go back to school to get certified.”

Aang nods. “That’s okay,” he beams. “I wasn’t sure I wanted to be a teacher, but looking back, I owe everything I am to Monk Gyatso. His teachings set me free. And I was humbled to pay homage to that by becoming a teacher.”

Zuko regards him fondly. “That’s how I feel about my Uncle.”

“Iroh,” Sokka nods. “ _Great_ man.”

“The best.” Zuko smiles.

The moment fizzles out and Zuko clears his throat awkwardly, feeling everyone’s eyes on him. He pulls out the Chromebook that he had likely just picked up from the tech department earlier this morning. He unlocks it using his given password and quickly changes it. Sokka watches as he diligently gets to work on updating his email signature, but he loses steam rather quickly. “Ugh, how do you work this thing?”

“A _computer_?” Katara asks incredulously. “How the hell did you graduate school?”

“ _No_ ,” Zuko rolls his eyes. “A _Chrome_ book. All the keys are… weird. I keep hitting this button every time I try to hit “shift” and it’s absolutely insufferable.”

“The search key?” Toph asks.

Zuko nods, about to launch headlong into a rant before he pauses. Sokka sees him turn to look at their blind friend. “How do you…?” he lingers, likely waiting for the appropriate words to come to mind.

Toph puts him out of his misery with a simple wave of her hand. “Speech to text, _duh_ ,” she props her feet up on the stool across her, feet coming up right beside Zuko. “I _do_ know how to type though, how else is a girl supposed to find porn?”

Zuko flushes, but doesn’t take the bait. The remainder of the group groans at Toph’s brashness, which Toph embraces with a smug sense of pride. She opens her mouth to speak again, jabbing her thumb in Aang’s general direction. “Twinkle-toes over here helped me disable that damn search key. It’s in a weird spot.”

Aang extends his hands across the table and Zuko eagerly surrenders the laptop. After a few seconds of tinkering, he asks the young home economics teacher. “Hey, there isn’t a way to switch the direction of the trackpad is there?”

Aang pauses thoughtfully. “I’m not sure… I can try and see.” He offers.

Zuko nods and raises his head to find several pairs of eyes twinkling in amusement. He flushes once more. “My old job lent out MacBooks to the teachers… guess I kind of got used to it.”

Toph lets out a low whistle. “A _MacBook!?_ ” Sokka practically shrieks. “You came from a private school, didn’t you?”

“Caldera Prep,” he confirms. “Same high school I attended.”

“Well, you’re in public school now, buddy!” Sokka says, elbowing him gently. “Welcome to the land of Chromebooks, budget cuts, and random transfers! Remember that time they made you teach 6th grade, sis?”

Katara groans. “Worst year of my _life_! Middle schoolers are so… _ugh_.” She buries her face in her hands. Aang nudges her shoulder, and she raises her head to offer him a warm smile in return.

“Wait,” Toph’s voice rings. “You’re telling us you left a cushy, well-paid private school job to work in our little hell-hole?”

“Yeah…” This time, Zuko’s hesitant stutter catches everyone’s attention. “I mean, I wanted the support of a union… and stability, a retirement plan… a support system,” he explains, sounding very tired. “My old school couldn’t offer me that.”

Sokka wanted to comment, but it was at that moment that Dr. Piandao took the podium to address the district. Sokka smiles at the superintendent… while the school district was far from perfect, he knew that his former mentor had helped bring consistency and prestige to the district where it had been lacking before.

* * *

Professional Development was always so _boring_.

Earlier, Mai had briefly looked shocked that Sokka knew enough about the day’s schedule to even _know_ there were team meetings later that day. They both knew, however, that Sokka hadn’t glanced at a PD outline in years. It was the same nonsense every August, all the same general house-keeping drabble that needed to be said by admin, but by almost no means actually needed to be _heard_ by the faculty. Most of the information was so painfully obvious that even a freshman could gather its intent, and other procedures were so ridiculously specific that they almost definitely would never come into play.

Why, then, was Zuko taking such diligent notes?

He keeps his Chromebook propped open to reflect the mini-version of the presentation up on the SmartBoard. _Why would you copy the power point when you already have the slides saved for yourself!?_

God, the man even had _highlighters_ to emphasize key words in his notes. Really!? As if anyone ever actually reads the notes they take during class.

……….Who the _hell_ ever let Sokka become a teacher?

Toph leans forward over the table to whisper with Sokka, who leans back ever so slightly to whisper back. The two of them made a game of it each year during PD– always trying to say something to make the other person raise their voice or move enough to get caught chatting– a game that got twice as difficult (thus, twice as exciting) when their colleague had been promoted to Vice Principal.

But something interesting happens when they reach the sexual harassment prevention part of the training– Zuko stops taking notes.

At first Zuko seemed to be just considering what to write first, but then he sets his pens and notebook aside.

Toph seems to notice this as well, as she reclines away from Sokka, propping her feet up once more.

Neither of them speak for the reminder of the morning session.

* * *

After the lunch break, the teachers begin to filter back into the room. Zuko nods at their group as he enters, but seemed intent to sit elsewhere, striding away. Aang stops him.

“Zuko, over here!” he waves, in probably the cutest display of passive-aggression ever.

Zuko pauses in his step. “Oh, uh…” he falters. “Hi?”

Aang levels his stare, adopting one of his rarer ‘serious’ faces. “Were you seriously going to make us invite you _again_?”

“I… you guys are so close,” he explains. “I just didn’t want to intrude.”

Katara smiles sympathetically. “You’re not,” she assures.

Hesitantly, Zuko makes his way back to their table. “Aren’t I supposed to go to the department meeting?”

Sokka shakes his head. “Not yet, still have another 45 minutes or so before that.”

The gang falls into a comfortable silence, before Sokka inevitably smashes it with a sledgehammer. “So, are you going to have your students call you ‘Mr. Embers’... ‘Mr. E’?” he asks eagerly. “Or, are you keeping that information a _mystery_ for now?”

The group was silent. Though Katara’s glare let Sokka know that his joke had landed about as well as it could have. Finally, Zuko answers. “Mr. Embers.” His voice carries no humor.

Sokka smiles at their new colleague. It seemed Iroh’s assessment of him was pretty spot on. This guy would be a tough nut to crack.


	2. Spirit - September

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko attends his first Pep Rally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! Chapter 4 is technically only half written, but I've been itching to share this one with y'all! Enjoy!

It’s a small blessing that everyone has the same lunch period this year. Normally Sokka detests 6th period lunch, as he’d rather tough out the first 6 in the morning, eat 7th, and then coast the last two periods of the day. But as it had turned out, he’d rather have the early lunch with all of his friends than the late lunch alone with the school’s crazy chemistry teacher.

He knew their former VP, Pakku, had done it purposefully that one year... just to spite him.

And Bumi was fine company… until he started pulling pranks on the admin. Or making Sokka’s soda blow up in his face.

So it was a relief when all of his closest friends had the same lunch. Surely some of the building’s other teachers detested this tidbit, as their gang tended to monopolize the teacher’s lounge during their lunch. Reserving seats, laughing loudly, even _popping popcorn_ in the communal microwave despite all the signs that forbade it.

It also made it easier for the lot of them to loop Zuko into their day-to-day lives. Aang had adopted the habit of formally inviting Zuko to eat lunch with them every day. He refused to let Zuko live down awkwardness of the first day.

And so, every day, Aang left a post-it on Zuko’s desk inviting him to lunch for 6th period. And every day, Zuko would enter the lounge, sit with them and listen to their stories. Only speaking when asked a question directly. Thankfully Sokka is naturally curious.

Halfway through the second week of school, Zuko enters the teacher’s lounge, fashionably late as always, but holding a pink post-it note in his hands. Aang excitedly waves Zuko over, but the new teacher frowns in return.

“I get it, guys. I’m always welcome here,” he says with mild annoyance. “My desk has enough sticky-notes on them. Please stop.”

Katara giggles sympathetically, but Aang is beaming.

Toph elbows him playfully when he sits down. “Maybe if you stopped saving them, you’d have more room on your desk!”

Zuko rolls his eyes. “The sticky notes on my desk are for _work_. Lesson plans, deadlines, email reminders…”

“Yeah, come on Toph,” Katara mocks. “The stickies on his desk are for _work_. Obviously.”

“Yeah, _OBVIOUSLY!_ ” Aang continues, mimicking Zuko’s rigid posture. But he breaks character when he leans in to excitedly whisper. “He saves _my_ notes in his desk!”

Amongst the resounding laughter, Zuko hisses: “Stay out of my desk!” but his cheeks are tinged pink.

When the group calms down. Aang reaches out to pat Zuko’s hand. “But really Zuko, if desk space means that much to you, I’ll stop.” He drawls.

And Zuko nods curtly saying “Thank you,” but Sokka can tell he is somewhat disappointed.

* * *

The next day, Zuko comes in, holding a tiny, pale blue square. This time, when Aang meets his eyes, he smiles, holding up the laminated post-it note.

> _**Admit 1** – 6th Period Lunch in the Teacher’s Lounge_
> 
> _Valid from September to June._
> 
> _$5 Replacement Fee._

“Cute.” The word is spoken flatly, but the smile has yet to fade from Zuko’s features.

Aang nods at him. “You’re welcome.”

Sokka points. “Don’t lose it now! Laminating sheets aren’t cheap!”

“You didn’t even use a quarter of a pouch,” Zuko says, rolling his eyes. “$5 is a rip-off.”

Sokka counts off on his fingers. “$1 per sheet, $1 for cardstock backing and $3 for shipping, handling, and a generous tip.”

“Seriously, you used to _live_ with him?” Zuko asks, sitting down.

Katara slides her gaze over to Sokka. “I think you should leave the _math_ to Zuko, Sokka.”

“Fine, fine,” Sokka resigns, hands up. “But the point remains– don’t lose it!”

At this, Zuko takes the square, twisting it between his fingers before tucking it into the plastic pouch attached to his lanyard. He lets the lanyard drop to hang around his neck, turning it so that his ID photo still faces outward. Then, he glances back up at Sokka, affectionately patting the placard against his chest.

Sokka nods. “Good.”

The moment hangs in the air, until Aang breaks it with a frustrated groan.

“What’s up, Twinkle Toes?” Toph asks around her noodles.

“It’s just…” Aang falters. “I already ordered 12-dozen neon sticky notes…” Katara rubs his shoulder, doing her very best to hold back fond, weightless laughter.

* * *

“I wish you would stop bringing work with you to lunch,” Sokka chastises, poking at Zuko’s hand. “Isn’t that what your prep period is for?”

Zuko swats his hand away. “I had a phone call with a parent during my prep today.”

Sokka recoils, incredulous. “Already? What for??”

Zuko shrugs, taking a bite of his sandwich. “Conduct in my class.”

Across the table, Katara snorts. “ _Vague_.” She critiques, pointing an accusing finger at her co-worker.

Still, Zuko’s eyes do not rise from his work as he effortlessly grades his seniors’ homework. “I’m not a fan of disrespectful students.”

“Dude!” Sokka shrieks. “It’s only the second week of school! You don’t just go calling parents over something like that.”

“I didn’t, I emailed them and they wanted to speak on the phone.”

“Still!” Sokka says. “We’ve only had like… 8 days of school!”

At this Zuko finally lets his pen fall from his grasp. He raises his eyes to glare at Sokka, who winces at the fierceness in his gaze. “Expectations management is _important_ , Sokka.”

Sokka frowns, but does not back down from his challenge. It is Zuko who finally ends their staring contest with an annoyed huff, returning his attention to his stack of ungraded papers.

Aang and Katara watch them with furrowed brows, as Sokka resumes eating in silence.

“…Zuko’s _strict_ ,” Aang whispers to Katara.

Sokka scoffs. “Understatement of the year.”

Zuko pauses, his pen scratching to a stop. Sokka raises his head and peers at Zuko, but his face is unreadable. The moment is over in an instant; Zuko moves the sheet to his “finished” pile and sets on to the next one.

* * *

At lunch next day, Sokka looks up to catch Zuko lingering in the doorway. Sokka suspects that his hesitation is due to their disagreement the previous day, and the fact that he is the only person in the teacher’s lounge. Zuko takes a step back, as if to back out of the room, but Sokka waves him in.

Zuko continues to look uncomfortable, but Sokka, after years of dumb arguments with his sister, had long ago mastered the art of forgiving and forgetting. He smiles when he notices that Zuko is holding only his lunch– no sign of a notebook, textbook, or Chromebook. “Just us today,” he tells his new friend.

Zuko nods slowly but sits down all the same. “So… where are they?”

“They’re helping get ready for the pep-rally tomorrow.”

“ ‘Pep rally’?”

“Oh! That’s right, _private school_ , I forgot! Sorry.” He scoops another spoonful of his lunch before continuing. “A school-wide celebration to kick-off the fall sports season. Games start tomorrow afternoon.”

“…got it,” Zuko says. “Don’t take this the wrong way… but that sounds like something you’d be _jumping_ at the chance to help with.”

Sokka laughs, sputtering around his food impolitely. He gathers himself together after a moment, taking in Zuko’s look of mild disgust. “You’re not wrong,” he admits. “But I helped out a bit this morning.” He gestures to his meal. “Lunchtime is sacred. Lunchtime is time for food!”

Zuko shakes his head, eyes fluttering closed. Then, he smirks at Sokka. “I guess I should have known.”

Sokka nods gravely. “Yes, you should have.” But then he kicks Zuko’s foot under the table, tension fading from his shoulders. “Glad to see you’re in a better mood today.”

Zuko’s shrug is exaggerated, as if feigning nonchalance. “Yeah. Glad you haven’t ticked me off yet, today.”

For the second time today since Zuko sat down, Sokka nearly chokes on his food. “Was that a joke!?” he demands, jabbing his spoon at Zuko.

“If a tree falls in a forest, and no one is arou–”

“Oh you _suck_!” Sokka cries. “You’re right. _No one_ will ever believe me if I say that you’re _funny_!”

The pale math teacher shrugs once more. “Oh well,” he sighs. “Guess it’ll just be our little secret.”

Sokka frowns. “I’m telling Iroh on you.” But then Zuko is laughing, and of course Sokka can’t help but join him.

* * *

Navy and Gold.

Zuko knew that those were the school colors, but he hadn’t expected to be absolutely _consumed_ by them this morning.

Everywhere he looks– wacky hair, sports uniforms, glittery posters…

Everything was so damn _loud_.

When Sokka told him what the Pep Rally was yesterday, he seriously downplayed it.

Zuko could kill him.

By time his class was finally called down to gym, he had managed to reign his frustration. He had completely given up on trying to quiet his morning classes earlier, as apparently sports are a big deal at this school.

Now, his class is being corralled into the gym like sheep, herded toward a half-full set of bleachers. On his way over he spies Katara sitting across the gymnasium with her class of sophomores. He frowns as he passes her by, and she waves sympathetically. Zuko had silently been praying that she was also with a senior class so that he could cling to his only sane comrade. But the world was not that merciful.

He knows he has to stay with his class during the assembly, so when his students start to climb up the steps of the bleachers, he desperately scans for a familiar face.

Spotting one such face, Zuko feels relief wash over him, before a cold panic takes its place.

 _Of course_.

* * *

Sokka grins eagerly at Zuko, waving so that he could see him. Zuko slowly starts up the steps toward him, and Sokka scoots his tush down to the last row of his students. Zuko sits in the row in front of him, where his class section begins, resolutely staring over his class like a good teacher.

Sokka knees at his shoulder. “Pretty cool, huh?”

“Seriously? I can’t even _look_ at you right now.” Zuko says.

“Aw….” Sokka whines. “Why not?” he shimmies down one more row, straddling the bench to lean in toward his moody friend.

Zuko’s glare is sharp when he spins to face him. He briefly looks stunned to see Sokka so close, but after regarding his posture and presence, Zuko sneers. “Well for starters, your _face_ , Mr. Tribe.”

The sound is somewhat unfamiliar, and it clicks that Sokka and Zuko hadn’t addressed each other in front of the students before now.

It’s true that Sokka went all-out for pep rally. He had navy paint on one half of his face and gold on the other, a single line of the opposite color under each eye. He wore the navy trackpants from last years’ soccer fundraiser, gold socks peeking out from underneath. His gold t-shit had a volleyball and the school’s name printed on it and he donned navy sweatbands on each wrist.

Teenage giggles over Zuko’s shoulder bring him back. “Come on, Mr. Embers, surely you have _some_ school spirit!”

Zuko rolls his eyes, turning back to supervise his class. Sokka follows suit, leaning back so that he could watch his class in the few rows above him. He pointedly does _not_ go up to the top row, as is protocol, because he simply can’t pass up the opportunity of watching Zuko experience his first Pep Rally.

He was sure he’d get some _killer_ stories out of it.

A few minutes after the remaining classes shuffle in, the assembly begins. Principal Kuei approaches the podium, giving an emphatic speech welcoming everyone. He talks excitedly about the upcoming sporting events, how proud he is of the student athletes and coaches, and his faith that Flying Bison would have a successful season this Fall.

Sokka idly recalls how the veteran teachers described their principal during his early years. When Kuei first came to the district, he reportedly had been so ignorant of the school climate, and knew absolutely nothing about sports. Now though, he appears at nearly every home game, and can rattle off the name, graduating year, and stats of any and all of the school’s athletes. It’s hard to imagine him any other way.

He wonders if Zuko will similarly find his home here.

He grins wolfishly when he sees Zuko’s expression fall in shock and alarm. Toph, moments earlier, burst through the doors of the gymnasium in a navy T-shirt and shorts. ‘ _COACH’_ emblazoned in gold across the back. 30-something girls charge in after her amongst cheers and shouts. After a ‘victory’ lap, Toph breaks off from the group to pound up the steps of the stage. She grabs the microphone, opposite hand raised in the air, holding it there as the noise subsides.

“T–” Zuko starts. “Ms. _Beifong_ coaches… soccer?”

Sokka nods. “Her girls are the best in our division, they make it to States’ every single year.”

“ _Every_ year?” Zuko echoes, staring at him. “They make it to the State Championship Tournament _every single_ year?”

Again, Sokka nods. “Let it out now, she’d murder you if she heard you sounding so shocked.”

But Zuko doesn’t get a chance, because a moment later, Toph’s voice booms over the speakers.

“Gooooood morning Ba Sing Se!” she bellows. Cheers and whoops fill the space between her next words. “You lily-livers ready to meet your Varsity lineup?”

As Toph lists off the team members, Zuko whispers. “But… how?”

Sokka shrugs. “She kind of has a super-power.” Zuko levels him with a skeptical stare. “I’m serious. She can just kind of… _feel_ where people are and what they’re doing. She even has this eerie ability to tell when someone is lying.”

“Woah,” Zuko breathes. “That’s so _cool_.”

Sokka smiles. “Now _that’s_ the spirit!” he teases. “You should ask her about it sometime, I’m sure she’d happily tell you.”

Zuko nods as he stares down at her, still floored. “Yeah, I think you’re right.”

Toph continues to call out names (from _memory_ … seriously! Sokka needs to read off his class lists every day just take attendance), when Zuko asks. “Do you think she alwa–?”

Sokka stands up, yelling his battle cry. The rest of the students in their section are standing with him, cheering and stomping their feet. For a few hysterical moments, Sokka can gleam just how much he’s stunned Zuko. His eyes are wide, trademark perfect posture broken as he reclines as far from Sokka as possible. After a moment, he seems to compose himself.

Toph finally finishes with the roster, and begins to talk about their upcoming schedule and tonight’s first game. Sadly, an away game, or else Sokka would have eagerly attended. He sits back down next to Zuko, smiling at him sympathetically. “Sorry, forgot to mention that we have to cheer for the seniors.” He gestures at the crowd behind Zuko. “Each class cheers for their own, and the seniors kinda _have_ to be the loudest.”

Zuko scans the other set of the bleachers. “Freshmen are pretty loud too.”

“Yeah, they are.” He grins. “Sophomores are usually the quietest class, simply because they don’t have as much to prove as the other classes.”

Suddenly Zuko’s expression sours. “You couldn’t have told me this sooner?” he accuses, turning his glare back to him.

“Oh calm down, _Mr. Embers_ ,” Sokka says. “This is where it’s at! The seniors are the most fun.” ~~~~

Zuko scoffs. “Clearly you and I have very different definitions of _fun_.”

“There’s only one definition of fun.”

Toph finishes her speech, and one-by-one the other sports coaches introduce their rosters.

Zuko does not get up and cheer as Sokka had wanted, but at the very least he claps for the senior athletes and doesn’t look as grumpy as he had at the beginning. Sokka likes to think that he _was_ actually having fun, even if the public-school spirit had shocked him at first.

He only startles when the girls’ volleyball coach comes up to speak.

Well… not because of the volleyball coach _herself_ , but because Sokka is admittedly pretty loud when he cheers for her.

Zuko stares at him. “…friend of yours?” he asks slowly.

Sokka laughs. “Yeah, she’s in my department.” He leans in. “Suki and I go way back.”

“I’m surprised I haven’t met her yet.”

“You will,” Sokka assures. “She just works lunch duty. Very type-A hard worker.” He pauses. “She’s also up for tenure this year, which is pretty much a sure thing for her, but she isn’t the type to slack off.”

“Makes sense,” Zuko agrees. “Tenure is a big deal.”

“It is, job security is nice.” Sokka nods. “And frankly, this is a _great_ place to work.”

They turn back to watch as Suki recaps their last season and goes through her roster.

After a while, Zuko’s soft voice reaches his ears.

“My sister used to play volleyball.”

Sokka is thankful that Zuko isn’t facing him, as he’s sure he’s wearing the shock plain as day. Zuko hasn’t mentioned _anything_ about his personal life since those first awkward introductions at the staff development day. “Did she?”

Zuko nods. Sokka thinks that’s all he’ll say, but then he continues. “She was vicious, there were some games where she’d be the only server. Ace after ace to victory.”

Sokka lets out a low whistle. “That’s _insane_ ,” he marvels. “Sisters are scary.”

“You said it.”

The two fall silent again. The last thing to close out the pep rally, as per tradition, is a brief show by the marching band. It’s been significantly modified to fit in the gymnasium, but the energy and enthusiasm is, as always, captivating. The liveliness of the song, flawless choreography, and powerful chords… all so… contagious. Sokka finds himself beaming, and is thrilled to see Zuko doing the same, staring in admiration as Aang leads the color guard, twirling his flag with effortless grace and sharp skill.

Both of them know that Aang has no actual reason to be performing with the color guard, but he is still just a kid at heart. His face exudes pure joy as he glides through the movements– punctuating the significant beats, stepping through the stances and catching the flag after each toss without even looking.

The students are absolutely _eating up_ their performance, and Sokka knows that Principal Kuei was right– the teams are going to have an _awesome_ season.

He smiles when he hears Zuko’s voice, just barely over the blare of trumpets.

“Yeah, it _does_ seem like a great place to work.”

* * *

On Monday, Zuko walks past Sokka’s class on his way back to his own classroom. It’s almost the end of his prep-period, and he had just turned in the last of his webinar certificates to the office.

The halls are mostly empty, likely since it’s so near to switching time.

Curiosity gets the best of him.

He stands back from the door so that he can just see inside Sokka’s room without the other students spotting him. All he sees is Sokka waving emphatically, detailing the events of some inane conference with the enthusiasm and drama. He stops only when a second, younger voice from inside the class groans:

“ _Come on, Mr. Tribe… why are we supposed to care about something that happened over a hundred years ago?”_

Ugh, a line of questioning with which Zuko is very familiar. Nearly every day, a student waves around their smart phone saying that there is no reason to learn math when everyone has a calculator at their fingertips.

Sokka is similarly unsurprised. In fact, he even looks… pleased.

 _“Class, it is our **duty** to learn from our history.” _He says, striding over to his desk. _“Terrible things happen all the time– good things and advancements in technology, too. If we don’t know where we come from, how can we ever expect to understand where we’re going?”_

Zuko nods, but Sokka isn’t finished.

_“Some like to say that ‘Those who don’t learn from history, are doomed to repeat it’. But **I** like to say, that if you aren’t wary of history…”_

Then, Zuko spots a quick flash of movement, an unknown object flies through the air, clearly flung from Sokka’s grasp. For a horrifying moment, Zuko thinks the teacher had _snapped_ right before him. Shrieks and gasps ring out in the room. But then with a snap, the object is back in Sokka’s hand, held effortlessly over his head where he had caught it. A boomerang. _“It will come back to bite ya!”_

_A **boomerang**._

Groans and reluctant giggles echo in the classroom as Zuko stalks away from the room.

* * *

At lunch, the door closes with a bang. Sokka glances up to see Zuko glaring at him. “A _boomerang_!?” he demands.

The rest of their group laughs, but Sokka shrugs. “Got the point across didn’t it?” he asks. “Or rather…. Got the point _around_.”

“That’s not a thing.” Zuko accuses.

“Maybe not,” Sokka smiles. Zuko’s rage is unseasonably funny, even more so when he tries to keep it reigned in. Sokka likes to play with those boundaries, pushing to see what would get Zuko to snap at him. But this was about his boomerang, so he could afford to keep the tone serious for a bit longer. “But I do this every year, the kids love it!”

Zuko rolls his eyes, but sits down all the same. Katara pinches his cheek as he reaches for the napkins in the middle of the table. “So cute when you’re all pouty,” she says, exaggeratingly pursing her lips.

“Not you too…” Zuko groans, pushing her hand away. “I thought you’d be on my side on this.”

“I am,” Katara promises. She ignores Sokka as he cries _Hey!_ “But I’ve learned that it’s easier to just go with it when it comes to my brother.”

She leans in, as if to whisper something Zuko, but at the last minute lowers her hand slightly. Clearly she wants Sokka to hear it, too. “Besides, I think he enjoys when we object to his jokes even _more_ than when we laugh at them.”

Affronted, Sokka splutters. “Not true!” His voice cracks.

A snort. “Lie.”

“ _Toph_ ….” Sokka whines. “Not cool…”

“Neither are boomerang puns,” Toph points out.

And Sokka is _deeply_ offended, totally not at all enjoying the smirk on Zuko and Katara’s faces as they snicker. He most certainly does not appreciate _all_ forms of attention.

Katara turns back to Zuko. “So how are your classes going so far?”

“Well enough, I guess.” He shrugs. “The curriculum is really dense, I just wish I could–”

Sokka jumps out of his chair. “Put your own _spin_ on it?” he snaps his fingerguns.

Zuko briefly flicks his gaze in his direction. “No.”

And Sokka _cracks up_ , barely managing to fall into his chair instead of spilling onto the floor. The rest of the group follows suit.

They start to settle down, but when Sokka looks up to find Zuko’s stoic expression still in place, he loses it all over again.

He supposes Katara might have a point.

* * *

September is starting to wind down a bit, Sokka still can’t believe that they are almost a month in. The weather is getting a little bit cooler, and everyone is starting to adjust their wardrobe accordingly.

This also means that all the clubs and fall sports are starting their first rounds of fundraisers.

Sokka was mildly disappointed that neither soccer team nor the volleyball team were selling the sweatpants he liked, but he could always have his team take care of that in the spring.

Still, he was _pumped_ about the hoodie design that he had done for Toph, and the long sleeve t-shirts that the volleyball team is selling.

He had brought Suki’s order form with him to lunch, and thus the debate about what size everyone should get was well underway.

Toph rolls her eyes. “How hard is it? Whatever size sweatshirt you order, get the same size long sleeve.”

“It doesn’t work like that!” Sokka says. “I did that last year and the long sleeve was too loose.

Katara and Toph grill him, playfully teasing him about how he just wants to show off his muscles more than he wants to actually be comfortable. Zuko watches on silently.

“I’m going to get a size up for the hoodie,” Aang says, smiling. “That way I can layer up and get all cozy.”

“See!” Katara points to Aang. “He gets it!”

“You just want him to order a size up so you can steal it from him!” Toph accuses. It’s not a dig at Katara per se, Aang is just very lean, and Katara has her lady curves that make her not-always-as-comfortable in her boyfriend’s smaller clothes.

Katara pouts. “I’m going to order my own.”

“But if we get the same size, we can switch back and forth!” Aang says.

This brings a smile back to Katara’s face. “That’s a great idea, sweetie!”

“What would be the point of that?” Sokka asks.

Sokka sees Aang squeeze her hand under the table. Even during lunch, they try to keep their relationship discreet– at least from the prying eyes of students. Outside of school, their affectionate touches, pet names, and googly-eyes are overwhelmingly darling. But since they _are_ still in school, Sokka isn’t expecting Aang’s overly honest answer.

“So I can have it when it smells like her,” he smiles. Katara returns the sentiment.

“ _Oogie_ ,” Sokka says making a face. “Sorry I asked.”

“What size should I get?” Zuko asks. Sokka looks to see he’s holding one order form in his hand, the other staring back at him from the table.

“Uh…” Sokka begins. “Whatever size you think would be comfortable?”

Zuko scoffs. “Helpful.”

“No offense,” Katara says. “But it’s kinda hard to tell what size you are when you wear… stuff like that every day.”

Only Zuko _is_ offended, looking at her in shock and then down at his outfit. He’s wearing loose fitting slacks, a plain white button down and a suit jacket. He has those same ridiculously shiny shoes from the first day.

Sokka can’t help but agree with his sister. “Seriously man, this is high school. It’s not like you’re college professor.”

Zuko frowns. “Sorry if I want to look professional.”

Toph gestures to herself. As a gym teacher, she naturally wears sneakers, sweats, and some kind of t-shirt every day, whistle around her neck just above her lanyard. “You saying I don’t look professional?” Her feet are up on their shared table.

Zuko visibly flounders, but Aang is merciful. “What you’re wearing is fine for back to school night and formal dinners and such,” he begins, ever the peacemaker. “But our dress code isn’t that strict, you can wear sweaters and khakis and such.”

Sokka nods, but Zuko doesn’t catch it, he isn’t looking at them anymore. “Are you sure?”

“Uh… _duh_ ,” Sokka says. “I’ve been here for 6 years. And I’ve _never_ worn a getup like yours on the clock.”

Aang gently presses him. “You had to wear this every day at your old school?”

“…at least I’m not wearing a tie.” Zuko grumbles. And Sokka barks an incredulous laugh, no one else joins.

A thought hits him. “Looks like we’re going shopping, then!” Sokka cheers, clapping his hands.

Zuko furrows his brows as he stares at him. “I’m busy,” he says dismissively.

Now it's Sokka's turn to pout. “I didn’t even say when…”

Katara reaches for Zuko, laying a hand on his shoulder. “What size T-shirt do you wear?” she asks. Sokka honestly had forgotten how this whole conversation began, so he’s thankful for Katara’s redirection.

“Medium.”

“Okay,” Katara nods. “Then get a medium long-sleeve and a large sweatshirt.”

Zuko smiles at her. “Okay.” He finishes his forms and writes a check for both fundraisers. Sokka is proud that he managed to not laugh at him when he produced his checkbook from the interior pocket of his suit jacket.

Toph snatches the forms and the envelope out of Zuko’s hands when he passes it to her. “You guys are impossible,” she says. “None of this was that difficult, _really_.”

Sokka has decided that his next mission is to convince Zuko to let him take him shopping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Expect lots of lunchroom chats with the Gaang going forward! This is the brand.
> 
> Zuko meets Suki in the next chapter! PS Somebody get Sokka and I some SWEATPANTS from our respective schools!!
> 
> Please leave a comment :)


	3. Royals – October

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko finds his "Rate My Teachers" page, receives some advice, and gets roped into a group Halloween costume.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to my betas who helped me polish this chapter! Go give them some love! [Fuxxy_Panda101!](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fuxxy_Panda101/pseuds/Fuxxy_Panda101) and [raininginthestreets](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raininginthestreets)
> 
>  **Note:** Tags added since the last update; CW does not apply directly to this chapter but is a part of the underlying plot.

Sokka and Suki stride out of her classroom, laughing easily. “I can’t believe one of the students _actually_ reported your boomerang-throwing this year,” she grins. “What did Mai say?”

Sokka shakes his head. “The meeting was really just for appearances,” he admits. “All she said was to try to give her a heads up the next time I’m ‘going to do something stupid’.”

“Well we all know _that_ ’s not going to happen.” Suki pokes him in the side. “I’ve been trying to get you to do that for years!”

Sokka offers her a shrug, smirking playfully. “From now on, just assume I’m always about to do something stupid.”

Suki scoffs. “Is that your natural jing?”

“Pretty much.” They pause outside of Zuko’s classroom. The shade on the door window isn’t drawn and the lights are still on, which means Zuko is still in there, rather than on his way to lunch like the rest of them. Sokka leans closer to confirm, but his desk isn’t viewable from the window.

Zuko is a real stickler about protocol, and dutifully locks his classroom and closes the shade before he leaves the room. It’s the school rule on paper, but one that hardly anyone actually follows. It’s also why at least once a week, one of his students knocks on the door of the teacher’s lounge during lunch, so that Zuko can unlock the door to retrieve something the student left in his classroom.

“Is that the new guy’s room?” Suki asks.

“Yeah,” he says. “Wanna meet him?”

Suki shakes her head, disappointed. “I can’t, I’m already running late for lunch duty.” She says. “Maybe at the next karaoke night?”

At that, Sokka grins. “Yeah, I think Aang and I can convince him to join us.”

“Great!” Suki smiles, squeezing his arm. “I’ll catch you later then.”

And then she’s speed-walking down the hall to the cafeteria. Sokka waves after her, before turning back to the door. He knocks twice, but is already opening the door when he hears Zuko’s gruff voice tell him to ‘Come in’.

Sokka frowns when he sees Zuko hunched over his desk, clearly not even remotely ready to leave to meet them for lunch. He has his head resting on one palm, while his other hand clicks furiously at his mouse. “Lesson plans?” Sokka ventures.

“No,” Zuko says with a sigh. “Rate My Teacher.”

“Oh.”

“ _Yeah._ ” Zuko sounds rueful. “Ty Lee told me about it. And I’m already on here.”

Sokka notes his tone, and realizes that this isn’t a topic he can just brush off. Looks like he’s eating lunch in Zuko’s room today. He pulls up a chair by Zuko, sliding into it so that his chest is leaning over the back of the chair. He crosses his arms over it as he leans in to look at the computer. “How many?”

“Five.” Zuko angles his Chromebook so Sokka can see the screen more easily. He scrolls through the reviews, most of which are short and simple: “ **boring** ” “ **math is lame** ” but one catches his eye.

“Yikes,” Sokka winces. “Someone really went on here to call you an _asshole_??”

Curiously, Zuko smirks at that. “That one I don’t mind, actually” he says. “He’s not wrong.”

Sokka mentally notes the certainty with which Zuko says ‘he’, as if he knows which student wrote the review. The math teacher continues before he can question it.

“But this one… ‘ _Mr. Embers is stiff and humorless. He teaches like a math robot.’_ …”

“Do you know who wrote this one?” Sokka asks.

“Does it matter?” Zuko sighs. “They hate me. They don’t even think I’m a real person.”

“It’s the beginning of the school year, they probably just don’t like doing any work.” Sokka offers. “Besides, it’s just a website. It’s not like it affects your evaluations or anything.”

“Easy for _you_ to say.” Zuko says, quickly switching tabs. Sokka sees his name at the top of this one. “You have like, 4 negative reviews out of 50. You even have 8 chili-peppers!”

Sokka smirks, but resists the urge to puff his chest out. “So? I’ve been here 6 years.” But Zuko is already scrolling, diving down the rabbit hole.

He reads them off. ‘ _Mr. Tribe is the best! Somehow he makes learning fun’_

 _‘Yooooo Mr. Tribe is legit.’_

_‘Mr. Tribe is adorkable. Second best history teacher in the department–_

“Wait!” Sokka interjects, and Zuko pauses, finger twitching anxiously over the mouse. “Suki wrote that one.” He clarifies.

Zuko arches an eyebrow at him.

“We used to date.”

Zuko nods, glancing back at the computer. The time stamp confirms over 2 years ago, midway through Suki’s second year at the school. “Cool.” And just like that, Zuko’s fixated on the screen once more, scrolling obsessively through Sokka’s reviews.

“Stop,” Sokka says, and when Zuko doesn’t comply, he snatches the wireless mouse from his grasp. Zuko is just shocked enough to be unable to stop him. Sokka watches him, another eye-contact challenge.

Zuko loses once again, slumping back into his chair and staring at the laptop. He squints as he tries to read the screen from where he’s sitting, but Sokka isn’t having any of that. Zuko crosses his arms when Sokka closes the Chromebook.

“None of this matters,” Sokka reminds him.

“It does to me.” Zuko mutters quietly. “Not _one_ positive review.”

Sokka frowns as he watches him, not fully understanding. Even Aang wasn’t this dejected with his first negative review, and he considered his friend rather sensitive. Given their conversations thus far, Sokka hadn’t even considered the possibility that Zuko cared so strongly about others’ opinions of him.

Zuko leans forward onto his desk, cradling his head with his elbows propped up. Sokka can’t see his face behind his fingers and hair.

He’s at a loss for words. Thankfully, Zuko is uncharacteristically chatty today. “I need this to work.” He says, and Sokka isn’t sure he’s talking to him, but he replies anyway.

“It will.” He assures him, but Zuko shakes his head.

He sees Zuko tighten his fingers in his hair, he shudders as he draws in a deep breath.

Zuko’s voice is thick when finally speaks again; heavy and burdened with an emotion that Sokka can’t quite place. “I _can’t_ start over again.” He says. “This _has to work_.”

Sokka feels his heart break for him, but he also feels way out of his depth. Zuko had kept most of his anxieties quietly contained, to the point where Sokka thought he had fully acclimated to the school and his role in it.

He remembers his promise to Iroh, then promptly forgets it, as he realizes he _wants_ to help his colleague, favor or no favor.

“Hey buddy…” he reaches forward to rest his hand on his shoulder, and if possible, Zuko retreats into himself even more. It’s clear that he’s not comfortable being so openly vulnerable. “I’m going to help you, okay?”

He feels Zuko still. “…yeah?” he croaks.

Sokka nods, but then remembers that Zuko can’t see him. “You bet!”

Zuko turns his head away from him, but his opposite hand is suddenly squeezing Sokka’s own from its place on his shoulder. He hesitates. “Thank you.” He says finally.

Briefly, Sokka recalls a piece of counsel Iroh gave him years ago.

 _“Try saying ‘thank you’ instead of ‘I’m sorry’,”_ Iroh smiles patiently. “ _Give the other person a chance to feel good about helping you, rather than you feeling sorry for needing their help.”_

He wonders if Zuko is considering this same piece of advice– likely only a fraction of a lifetime of kind words and gentle reassurances. He smiles as he squeezes Zuko’s shoulder, and this time he does look at him. Sokka tries not to let the look in his friend’s eyes dampen his smile.

“Maybe I can show you around my classroom for inspiration?” he offers.

Zuko casts a sidelong glance at the clock, and his expression falters. “Sokka, I didn’t realize what time it is…” he says. “You haven’t even eaten yet.”

Sokka shrugs. Truthfully, he’d forgotten. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” Zuko shakes his head. “Lunchtime is _sacred_.” He reminds him, repeating Sokka’s own words from the other day. Zuko’s eyes are wide as if Sokka had sacrificed his whole day as opposed to a measly 20 minutes.

This time, Sokka allows himself to be a bit cheeky. “So is _friendship_!”

When Zuko actually barks out a brief laugh at that, Sokka slides his hand from his shoulder, gently nudging his arm with this fist. “See? There ya go…”

Zuko’s smile is still tinged with sadness, but it’s a smile all the same. The moment is broken when Sokka’s stomach growls loudly. Sokka feels his cheeks warm.

“But uh…” Sokka hears his own voice crack. Ugh. “Maybe you’re right. Why don’t we eat now and you can come to my room to talk during lunch tomorrow, okay?”

Zuko finally leans back in his chair. “Okay.”

The two of them finish their lunch without any further discussion. Zuko seems relieved, but still rather anxious.

* * *

Aang bounces into Sokka’s room during his 8th period prep. It’s Tuesday, so neither of them has a class until period 9.

“We missed you during lunch!” Aang says, diving for the yellow legal pad on his desk. “And Zuko, too.” He adds as Sokka passes him a pen. Sokka doesn’t have to look up to know that Aang has immediately started doodling.

Sokka answers the implied question. “Zuko found his ‘Rate My Teachers’ page.”

“Oof,” Aang frowns. “How bad?”

“He thinks he isn’t going to get his contract renewed.”

“But admin doesn’t even look at that page!”

“I know that,” Sokka agrees. “But for some reason, it _really_ upset him. Even more than your first year.”

The message washes over Aang, he sighs deeply, putting down the pad and pen. “So… what are we going to do?”

Sokka jerks his head, motioning for Aang to come over. Aang rounds his desk and leans over Sokka’s shoulder to see the webpage he’s pulled up.

“Math puns?”

Sokka holds up his stack of flashcards, beaming. “Math puns!”

Aang glances back at the computer. “These are terrible.” He marvels.

“I know,” Sokka smiles. “I used them mostly for inspiration– which words to tie together… but I changed the set-up and the punchline to make them flow better.”

Supportive to a fault, Aang brightens. “That’s great Sokka! How long did these take you?”

“Oh only like… all of last period.”

Aang looks surprised. “Didn’t you have class last period?”

Sokka pointedly ignores Aang’s tone. “They watched an episode from the History Channel.”

“On…?”

Sokka purses his lips. Hm. “…whatever was in the VCR?”

He decides that he doesn’t like how suspiciously Aang is eyeing him. So what if he showed a video instead of lecturing? That is his given right as a teacher!

Okay, maybe the last time he showed a video was during senior cut day… last May. Videos weren’t nearly as entertaining as Sokka himself.

 _Still,_ Aang didn’t have to see the look on Zuko’s face when he thought he could lose his job over this. Sokka himself couldn’t grasp just how much it struck him, and _why_ , but he certainly couldn’t let his friend continue to feel that way.

So yeah. Sokka was a little annoyed at Aang’s silent judgement. “Are you going to help me tomorrow or not?”

“Sorry, can’t!” Aang shrugs apologetically, palms facing outward. A resignation from the third degree he was giving him, Sokka decides. “I’m helping Katara photocopy packets for the next book she’s doing. Besides…”

Sokka crosses his arms over his chest, spinning fully in his chair to consider the bald teacher. But Aang only smiles, albeit with a bit too much smugness for his liking. “It seems you have it under control.”

Sokka looks down at his stack of flashcards. He hardly recognizes his handwriting, as he had to write painfully slow to make sure Zuko could interpret them. “I hope so,” he admits. “The guy really seems to like it here.”

This time, Aang is the one laying a hand on _his_ shoulder. “Don’t we all…”

Sokka snorts at the cheesiness of it.

* * *

“Okay, so– step 1… the desk!” Sokka makes a ‘ta-da’ gesture with his arms, grinning cheekily.

He frowns as he watches Zuko scribble ‘Step 1 – Desk’ on his notepad.

Zuko brought a fucking _notepad_.

He snatches it out of his hands. “It’s not like I’m giving you a test on this, sheesh!”

Sokka scoffs when he reads the heading that Zuko wrote– evidently before even arriving to his classroom.

_‘Mr. Tribe’s Class’_

Sokka shakes his head. “I could give you, like, _fifty_ better titles than that!”

Zuko crosses his arms. “Would any of them actually fit on one line?”

He considers this, but ultimately settles on: “If you write reeeeeeally tiny,”

“Desk,” Zuko reminds him.

“Desk!” Sokka chirps. “Your desk needs to be more personal, I get that you’re a math buff and you need, like, right angles and perpendicular things–”

“Wow.”

“–but your students also want to think of you as a person. Not a _math robot_.”

Zuko scrunches up his nose, scrutinizing his desk. “And a ‘hot-dog eating contest’ trophy is how you do that?”

“Among other things,” Sokka slips around the front of his desk to pick up and showcase some of the items. “See this?” He holds up a coffee mug.

Zuko squints to read it. It has his name at the top– only it’s printed in a ‘Nutritional Fact’ block. Among the list of ingredients are: Enthusiasm, Sarcasm, Grammatical Errors, Puns, Passion.

Zuko looks at him, an absolutely pitiful expression on his face. He’s half pouting, half studying Sokka with uneasy suspicion. “Are you about to tell me what my ingredients are?” he whines.

Sokka purses his lips, ruffling Zuko’s hair as if he were admonishing a sleepy child. “ _No_.” he says, as it’s completely out of character for him.

And well… Fair, it probably isn’t. But that’s not why he asked Zuko here.

“Aang got it for me when I made tenure,” he clarified. “The point is– you need to have some things on your desk that show who are as a person. Give them a little sneak-peak into how you are off-the-clock, and they’ll warm up to you.”

Zuko nods his head slowly. “Okay,” he says, but he still looks uneasy. “What’s that?”

Sokka turns his head to where he’s pointing, and smiles as he places his mug back down on the table. “Go take a look,” he tells him.

Zuko crosses over to the giant, plastic jar on the window sill. He curiously lifts up the lid and takes out two small items. A cube with various switches on it and a spiky rubber ball, he stares at them in the palm of his hands. “Fidget toys?”

“Fidget _tools_ ,” Sokka says patiently. From his pocket, he pulls out a similar cube to the one Zuko is holding. “Helps the kids focus. Gives them an outlet for their anxious energy– or just excess energy. Occupies their fingers so that their mind can tune-in without distraction.”

Sokka knows that he could have explained it better, judging by the look on Zuko’s face. Sokka demonstrates the cube for him, each side with its own function– a switch, a joystick, little buttons that quietly pop. Zuko watches him closely, trying it for himself, before placing the cube back in the jar. He takes the mini spiky ball and rubs it against his palms with thumb, before bringing his other hand over to run between his hands, making circular motions.

Sokka can’t help but smile watching him. Zuko’s studying the fidget tools with such intensity– a very tall child-scientist, he decides. When Zuko looks up at him, he knows he’s been caught staring, but resists the urge to look away. “Cool, huh?”

Zuko lowers his hands, the ball still moving between his fingertips of his left hand. “I guess I always just thought of it as more of a ‘younger grades’ kind of thing.”

Fondly, Sokka remembers his first experience in the classroom. They had placed him in a Kindergarten classroom for student teaching, and Sokka had been _very_ apprehensive about teaching such a young group of kiddos. What if he couldn’t keep his sarcasm in check? What if he accidentally told them that the Tooth Fairy wasn’t real? But by time the semester was over, he was practically ready to change his specialization. Not long after, he discovered his passion for teaching history– relating to some of the older students at middle and high school level, but he never forgot the young ones, and their smiles and antics.

He wonders what grades Zuko student-taught.

“I did sorta borrow it from there,” he admits. “But also, I have ADHD. Fidgeting helps me, so I want these guys to benefit from it too. Would be kind of shitty I was like _this–_ ” he clicks his cube repeatedly. “–all day, but yelled at a kid for tapping his pencil.”

“What about the kids that don’t have ADHD?”

Sokka shrugs. “As long as they’re using it appropriately, I’m fine. I’m not cross-checking IEPs.” He says. “I call them fidget ‘tools’ because there’s a right and a wrong way to use them. If they can’t use it and look at me, or write in their notebook while using it, then it’s the wrong tool for them.

“It takes some time to get used to the rules, and yeah– plenty of kids try to shove it up their nose or throw it across the room, but the ones who _need_ it, don’t do that. They only can hold onto it if they use it correctly.”

When Zuko still doesn’t reply, he adds. “I actually got the idea from your uncle.”

Zuko starts at this. “My Uncle? Really?”

Sokka nods. “Yeah! The snow globe, the stress balls…” he doesn’t mention the ridiculously cute mug, since it’s _technically_ out of the category he’s rolling with. “He wants people to feel safe in his office, and I want people to feel seen in my classroom.”

Zuko reluctantly smiles at this. “Me too.”

“Good,” Sokka says. “Then you’re already on the right track– you can hold on to that.” He adds, noting that Zuko has yet to stop passing the ball between his fingers.

He nods his thanks.

“Next up– walls!” he gestures grandly to the posters behind him. Some are history related, others quotes or motivational posters. Teamwork, honesty, etc. Naturally some assorted puns. “Not everything on your walls has to be about math. We’re also teaching these kids how to be productive members of society, how to own who they are– find themselves.”

Finally, Zuko seems to be following along. “Yeah… you’re right!”

“Always,” he winks. “And finally– this is the big one, you have to have _fun_ in class!”

Zuko’s face falls. “Fun.” He says flatly.

 _Perhaps a demonstration is in order_ , Sokka thinks. He holds up one finger before diving for his stack of flashcards. He flips through them until he finds one that’s _just right_ for this tutorial. “Aha!” he sets the rest of the stack down and clears his throat. “What did the sapling say when he grew up?”

He thrusts the card into Zuko’s hand, pointing at the punchline. Zuko, naturally, reads it without any inflection. “Gee, I’m a tree.”

“ _Gee-om-e-try!_ ” Sokka shouts, arms over his head. “Get it!?”

Zuko arches a brow. “What does a sapling have to do with math?”

Sokka pouts. “The punchline. The setup. It’s a _joke_ , if you tell it during math class, it’s a math joke.”

“I guess,” Zuko scowls. “How many of these are there?”

“Thirty-two.”

Zuko’s expression softens. “You really did that for me?”

It seems like a weird time to boast that most of them are original, so he leaves it out for now. “It was no trouble,” he assures. “Kind of fun actually, usually I only get to tell history jokes in school!”

If Zuko is unconvinced, he doesn’t call him out on it. He walks around the room for a bit, taking in all that Sokka showed him and more. His eyes fall on the clock– and Sokka looks too, because _shit_ , how did they kill another lunch period so quickly?

“Homework?” Zuko asks.

Sokka laughs, but chucks him his notepad and pen. The math teacher catches the pen with ease but stumbles to pick up the notepad, which had far too many pages to be aerodynamic. Not at all like a boomerang.

“3 things–”

Zuko leans against a student desk, propping his leg up against the chair in front of him to rest his notepad on his thigh.

 _Huh…_ Sokka thinks. _Zuko can look ‘casual’?_ He tries to remember a time where his co-worker looked at-ease, comfortable… and can’t think of one. When Zuko looks up to see if he’ll continue, he remembers what he was saying.

“3 things,” Sokka repeats. “Put one personal item on your desk, one _non_ _–math_ poster on your wall, and find a way to have fun in class.”

Zuko writes it all down and then smirks up at him. “Do I have to use the flashcards?” he teases.

“No,” Sokka says. “But I did make them _just for you_ and no one else in the math department, so…”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Zuko tells him earnestly, and Sokka returns the smile easily.

Zuko’s eyes seem to land on a poster that has fallen from his (admittedly overstuffed) closet. He strides over to pick it up off the floor, considering carefully before turning back to Sokka to ask “Can I borrow this?”

Zuko tilts to show it to him, but Sokka’s already halfway across the room, squinting at a poster so old it probably came with the school. It had pictures of some of history’s leaders, across different times and countries, boasting them as some of the greatest. “Sure, I don’t need it,” Sokka shrugs. “I generally try to keep my opinion out of what I teach– I just teach the facts and let the students decide for themselves.”

“That’s very wise,” Zuko agrees.

“Thanks, I wish my history teachers were a bit more objective. It never sat right with me that we only ever got one perspective on major historical events.”

“Hm,” Zuko says. “Well, at least you learned _something_ from them.”

The bell rings, and Zuko thanks him once again before going back to his classroom.

* * *

Later in the week, Sokka has two students late to his class. The same 4th period class.

One of the school’s star quarterbacks comes in 10 minutes late with a note from the principal’s office.

Six minutes later, a girl comes in with a note from the guidance office.

It strikes him as an odd coincidence, but Sokka is mid-lecture when it happens, and forgets to ask about it before the end of class.

They don’t sit near each other, so he doubts it’s related.

With progress reports coming up, he doesn’t linger on it for long, filing it into the ‘for later’ section of his brain.

* * *

During yet another lunch with his new friends, Zuko is mildly annoyed to find that people are still asking him direct questions to loop him into the conversation.

It’s sweet, really, but frankly he didn’t want to discuss something as trivial as Halloween.

Still, since Toph asked him point blank what he’s dressing as, it would be rude not to answer.

Not that she was one to talk about rude– during lunch, her feet were literally _never_ on the floor. Today they were propped on the edge of Sokka’s chair.

“A failed accountant,” he shrugs. But silence answers him, so he looks at the group of 4. “…it’s what I go as every year?”

This time, Toph barks out her laughter, holding her sides as if she might get a stitch.

“And uh…” Sokka begins. “What does that look like?”

Zuko gestures to himself and he’s promptly hit in the nose with the sugar packet that Sokka had just launched at him.

“No!” Sokka shoots up, knocking Toph’s feet off his chair. He leans across the circular table to point in Zuko’s face.

 _Ugh_ , Zuko thinks. _So theatrical._

“We are going _shopping_ , and that is IT!” Sokka says. “Clear your calendar!” And with a final wave of his hand, Sokka throws himself back in his chair. Done.

His eyes shift to Aang and Katara, who seem to be floundering for a change of topic. Aang reaches it first. “You could dress up like us!” he offers.

Zuko misses whatever Sokka grumbles under his breath. “What’s that?” Zuko asks Aang.

Aang looks sheepish, so Katara answers, giving her boyfriend a hard look. “A Royal Flush.” Ah. So that’s why Katara didn’t offer it as a suggestion. “Suki’s our fifth.” She explains unnecessarily.

It’s not Zuko’s first week of school anymore, he knows that Suki is a close member of their group, they talk about her often enough. “Don’t worry about it,” Zuko waves it off. “What suit?”

Sokka seems to have regained some of his pep. “Hearts.”

“Yeah, I was vetoed on that one,” Toph jabs a thumb in the direction of the other members of the group.

Katara explains that Aang is 10 (which Aang continues to protest because it was Sokka’s idea– a jab at how young he looks), Katara is Jack, Suki is Queen (‘You’ll understand why when you finally meet her,’ Toph tells him), Sokka is King, and Toph is the Ace.

“Duh!” she says.

“I’m sure there’s a way we can include Zuko…” Aang says, but really– Zuko doesn’t mind. He’s still new here– this group has their traditions and he doesn’t want to intrude on them. “I’ve got it! Joker!!”

“That’s a great idea, Aang!” Sokka chimes.

Toph scoffs. “If anything, _you_ should be the Joker, Captain Boomerang.” She kicks at his leg.

“Yeah, you’re right!” Sokka beams. “I am _way_ funnier than Zuko here!” he gestures at him with his head before facing him fully. “I’ll give you my costume, you’ll be the King!”

Zuko thinks of his family, of his father’s business– the legacy he failed to be worthy of. He narrowly manages to stop himself from scoffing at the irony. He had fallen from grace, he was certainly no royal heir, let alone a king. “I couldn’t, really–” he starts, and he watches the switch flip in Sokka’s eyes again.

“We’ve already decided, sorry!”

But Sokka’s tone isn’t apologetic. Zuko doesn’t understand why he’s upset at him for being dutifully polite– after all, because of him, Sokka would now have to prepare a whole new costume just a few weeks before Halloween. They’d evidently been planning this for a while, and had ordered the shirts well in advance. “I’ll bring you the King shirt tomorrow, I already have fabric paint.”

“Fine,” he says, a bit bitter at Sokka’s flippancy. But then he remembers what they’re doing for him so that he feels included in the school culture. What Sokka is doing for him to ensure that he gets to _stay_ a part of the school culture come next year. “Thanks,” he amends.

This pleases Sokka. “You are _oh so very_ welcome!”

“Hey, it was my idea!” Aang tells Sokka. “So _you’re_ welcome, Zuko!”

“Yes, _you’re_ welcome!” Toph says, taking the credit for herself.

Zuko smiles at them. “You all helped… you all tried to make me feel included.” He says, but when he meets Katara’s eyes, he can’t help but playfully add: “Except you.” He shrugs.

Katara’s mouth falls open in shock, but by time she punches his arm amongst resounding laughter, it’s settled into a snarky grin.

He remembers the homework Sokka gave him last week. He has to do everything he can to make sure he stays with these people next year.

* * *

Sokka eyes Zuko suspiciously, the man almost seemed giddy when he had invited him to his classroom after school. “I finished my homework,” he said, grinning.

For some reason, Zuko had insisted on Sokka closing his eyes before entering the room. When he is finally told to open them, he hears a switch flip and Sokka has to shield his eyes from the fluorescent lights that blink back at him.

The room looked… pretty much the same. Two new posters and… well it looks like some things had been rearranged on his window sill. He beamed at Zuko regardless, unwilling to be the reason for his smile to fall. “Looks great!” he tells him.

Zuko nods excitedly and tugs him over to where the posters are hung. “Uncle helped me pick them out,” he says. Sokka eyes the two posters, one was about honesty, the other about respect. “I know that posters don’t fix everything but… it gives me something to point at when these kids try to get away with Googled answers.”

Sokka snorts. “You can tell?”

“Duh,” Zuko grins. “Especially if it’s handed in without any work underneath the answer, some kids turn in multiple pages worth of work for a single problem–”

“Woah,” Sokka stops him with raised hands. “I gotcha, buddy… what else ya got?”

Zuko takes him to his desk. He picks up a small rubber duck– one that seems to be wearing a turtle shell. “My mother gave it to me,” he smiles fondly, lost in his own memory before he snaps back to clarify: “Not this _exact_ one, I bought another one just to have it here as a reminder. I keep the original at home.”

“Makes sense,” Sokka says.

“I collect them… rubber ducks,” Zuko continues. “My mom got me the turtle-duck one at the movie theater when I was little. It became a tradition every time we went to the movie theater to win another little duck in the claw machine. Thankfully it was “Play ‘Til You Win” so we always came away with another piece for our collection, sometimes two if the machine was on the fritz.”

Something about Zuko’s tone… his sweet nostalgia tinged with just a hint of sadness, told Sokka that he wasn’t supposed to ask about his mom. Part of him wanted to, just to get to know his friend better, but the other half feared that Zuko would return the question. Sokka didn’t _dislike_ talking about his mother… but it still wasn’t a topic of conversation he chose often. He also didn’t want to make this about him, not when Zuko was displaying so many new emotions in front of him. “How many do you have?” He asks instead.

Zuko pauses thoughtfully. “Not many,” he sighs. “Only about 20 or so, I haven’t added many since... well, it’s been a while.”

Sokka frowns at the implication. So his mother had been gone a while, too. When Zuko looks back up at him he quirks his lips upward, but Zuko isn’t fooled. Not that it stops him from doing the same thing.

“I do feel happier having this piece of her with me,” he admits.

“I get that,” he says earnestly.

It doesn’t escape him that Zuko was afraid to bring the original in, that perhaps he was worried someone would take it from him. Sokka thinks of buying him a ‘trust’ poster, and wonders if he would even accept it.

After a moment, Zuko gently sets the turtle-duck back on his desk. “I’m still working on having fun in class,” he says quietly.

Sokka shrugs. “It’s not like things like that happen overnight.” He assures. “Besides, you’ve taken some big steps in the right direction.”

Zuko raises his head to look at him again. “I do have one more thing to show you.”

Sokka makes a sweeping gesture, stepping aside with a curt bow to the math teacher. “Lead the way…”

Wordlessly, Zuko paces over to the windows and stops, turning to Sokka once more. Sokka considers him, waiting for him to speak, but finally turns to the windows once he realizes that Zuko would offer no explanation.

Seeing the items in question now, however, it was clear that none was needed.

Sokka clutched his stomach as the laughter burst out of him, the sound filling the room.

It was two cylindrical containers. One of which was filled with straight, wooden rulers that seemed remarkably new considering most rulers these days were made of just about anything but. The other one contained more rulers, only those were either too thin, overly worn, or simply… _wonky_ looking, mis-shaped plastic.

But what had Sokka doubled over in hysterics was the labels on the two containers. Both had been adorned with simple Word-Art and pictures. The first one read “Great Rulers” and had the heads of various TV/Movie Kings and Queens – Arthur, Jon Snow, Mufasa, Khal Drogo, even _Elsa_. The second one had pictures of Yzma, Jafar, Joffrey, Palpatine… and was accurately titled “Not-So-Great Rulers”.

Daenerys’ likeness was on both containers, smiley and kind on the first, scowling and mad in the second.

When Sokka finally catches his breath, he hears Zuko ask him “You like it?”

“Uh, _love_ it!” He says, and Zuko smiles bashfully.

“Your poster gave me the idea. But then I thought about what you said about biased history, and so this happened!” he explains, giddy once more. “I figured it’s fine since I’m using fictional rulers who are… pretty well agreed upon in terms of this alignment.”

“I agree, I think it’s very creative,” he says. “ _You’re_ creative”

This time Zuko does blush. Sokka asks him. “Have you actually seen all of these shows and movies?”

Zuko nods, quirking an eyebrow. “Have you not?”

Sokka eyes the cans again, this time looking over the characters with more detail. “All except _Merlin_ , I guess.”

“I think you’d like it,” Zuko tells him.

“I’ll add it to my list,” Sokka smiles. The air between them feels a bit weird, and Sokka has never been fond of silence, so he refuses to let it simmer. “Have you used any of the flashcards yet?”

Zuko sighs. “Yeah…”

“Which one?” Sokka elbows him, waggling his eyebrows.

For a moment, Sokka thinks Zuko is going to ignore him, but finally, he says: “Why do plants hate math?”

Sokka _of course_ knows the answer, but he can’t help but reply: “I dunno, _why_?”

Zuko steels himself with a deep breath, and Sokka is surprised to hear an unfamiliar tone tell him the punchline. “Because it gives them _square roots_ …”

And Sokka knows he would have told it better, even as his sudden laughter bursts out once more. Something about Zuko’s awkward delivery does it for him, and it makes Zuko laugh too– even if it’s notably guarded.

When their laughter dies down, the silence of the school settles in once more. It’s the end of the day, so the students have departed and all that’s left to hear is the occasional click of car doors of teachers heading home. “Oh!” Sokka chirps. “I almost forgot, I have your costume in my car!”

“Okay,” Zuko nods. “Let me just pack up and I’ll meet you in the parking lot.”

Sokka heads for the door. “Sounds good!”

* * *

Long after Sokka stepped out the door, Zuko is still buzzing with pride. He packs up quickly and trudges down the stairs.

Sokka was proud of him– of his additions to his classroom, which meant he was one step closer to being good enough to stay here. To stay at this great school with his Uncle, Mai, and his new colleagues who treat him so kindly.

He’s on autopilot, so he ends up at his car, even though it would have made more sense to just wait by the door for Sokka.

Still, Sokka finds him easily enough, bounding over to him. “Nice car,” he nods.

“Thanks,” Zuko says, eyeing the old sports car. It was new back when his sister got it for her 16th birthday, but now it was only frequent appointments and car washes that kept it looking less than a bucket of bolts.

“Here,” Sokka says, handing him the shirt. “I already finished my shirt for the costume, so you can stop worrying about me having to make it.”

Zuko smiles wryly at him. “I wasn’t worried.”

“ _Sure_ you weren’t,” Sokka purses his lips as he nods, and Zuko opens up his back door to lay the folded shirt atop his gym bag. “You heading to the gym?” he hears him ask.

“No,” Zuko closes the door. “I went before work.”

“Oh geez,” Sokka groans. “You’re one of _those_ psychopaths who wakes up at 5am just to get a workout in?”

Zuko frowns. “I’m an early riser.”

“Not me,” Sokka grins. “I’m a snooze-button master.”

Zuko scrunches his face at this. “I never hit snooze on workdays.”

“Anyways,” Sokka says. “I _am_ on my way to the gym now, but I guess I’ll see you later tonight then?”

 _Tonight?_ Zuko thinks, but then it dawns on him– the Homecoming Dance. Several of the teachers were chaperoning. “I’m not going,” Zuko tells him. “But I’ll be at the Homecoming game tomorrow.”

Sokka looks disappointed, but doesn’t try to convince him. “Okay, see you tomorrow morning then.”

As he turns to walk away, waving over his shoulder, Zuko stops him. “Wait,” he says. Sokka turns to meet his eyes but Zuko averts his gaze. “I um… wanted to thank you for helping me.”

Zuko chances a glance at Sokka, who is smiling softly at him. “You already have,” Sokka reminds him.

“I mean it,” Zuko urges. “You didn’t have to, and you did… I’m grateful.”

“Don’t mention it,” Sokka says with a wave. “It’s what friends do!”

 _Friends_. Zuko echoes in his mind.

“But,” Sokka continues, and this time he’s grinning. “Friends _also_ sometimes return the favor by buying their buddy a drink, say… at the next karaoke night?”

And Zuko knows enough about Sokka to know that he’s baiting him, but it really is such a small gesture in comparison to the magnitude of Sokka’s kindness. And for whatever reason, Sokka and Aang have been _really_ insistent on getting Zuko to join them for karaoke night.

“I think I can swing that,” he says, and Sokka’s exclamation of ‘Yes!’ and mini-celebration dance is worth the concession.

* * *

Ba Sing Se High School loves its traditions and school-spirit events. Sokka’s calendar always seemed stocked with some kind of game, event or fundraiser. Thankfully, his best friends in the world happen to be his coworkers, so attending these school functions is less of a chore and more of an extra excuse to hang out with his friends off the clock.

It was also nice to have dinner with his sister on a day like today. On Fridays, Aang usually stays late to prepare with the color guard and get ready for the field show. That meant that Sokka and Katara had from the end of school until the 7pm game to BS in the local coffee joint. Today Toph tagged along because it was one of the bigger games– Homecoming. Knowing this, Sokka had extended the invite to Suki and Zuko.

Understandably, Suki couldn’t come because she had an away game with her varsity volleyball team– she’d meet them at the game.

Zuko, however, said he had to do _work_. Which seems physically impossibly because that guy is literally _always_ working and seems to have no concept of me-time. Him-time. Whatever.

He almost expects him to not show up, but sure enough, 10 minutes before game time Sokka sees his black mop bobbing toward him from across the crowd of people filtering through the gates.

Zuko must lean up onto his tippy-toes, because suddenly Sokka is making eye contact and waving the mopey teacher over. “Hey!” he calls.

“Hi,” Zuko says. He has his hands shoved into the pocket of the recently delivered soccer team hoodies.

“Oh sorry, I thought you were someone else…” Sokka gasps. “Because _my_ friend Zuko wouldn’t show up to a school function wearing jeans!”

Zuko looks stunned for a second, but the expression quickly curls into a scowl. “Ha. Ha.”

Katara loops her arm through Zuko’s. “Easy big brother,” she says. “I think you look nice, Zuko.” She smiles, patting his shoulder.

“Thanks,” he says, returning her smile. “I had time to change before driving over– school spirit and stuff.”

“And stuff,” Toph smirks. “Now that we’re all caught up, let’s head up to our spot.”

The four of them climb up the rows of metal bleachers– not without messing with some of his students on the way up, until they finally reach where Suki’s managed to reserve a stretch large enough to comfortably seat the five of them. “Hi guys!” she says, standing up to greet them.

Toph and Katara each hug her before she comes to Sokka. “Hi Suki,” Sokka says, pulling her in, when they part, he gestures to Zuko. “And this is Zuko Embers, our new King!”

“So this is the math teacher huh?” Suki sizes him up quickly before stepping past Sokka. “I’d hug you but you don’t strike me as a hugger.” She then extends her hand, which Zuko seems relieved to accept.

“Nice to meet you, how could you tell?” He asks.

Suki scoffs. “Just your entire body language.”

“Nothing personal,” Zuko clarifies with a chuckle. “Though it’s a shame Sokka hadn’t managed to pick up that skill from you while you were dating.”

This makes Suki laugh. “Believe me, I _tried_ to teach him,” she says. “Great teacher, _terrible_ student!”

“Hey!” Sokka squeaks, failing to break their laughter. “When did this meet-and-greet become a Sokka-roast?”

Suki pinches his cheek. “Awwww babe,” she says, her tone condescending. “You just make it too easy sometimes. All in good fun.”

The three of them sit down to begin some idle chatter, when Sokka notices Zuko’s rigid posture. Sokka scoffs and elbows him gently. “A little underdressed?”

Zuko scowls. “It wasn’t this cold at the soccer game,” he grumbles.

“Yeah, soccer games don’t start at 7pm,” Sokka rolls his eyes. “Hold on, I’ll go get you hot chocolate.”

Zuko shakes his head. “I’m fine,” he insists.

“And stubborn,” Suki notes, but then she leans over to Zuko and not-so-quietly whispers. “He just wants an excuse to go to the concession stand.”

As Zuko laughs quietly, Sokka pouts. “Not true,” he says. “In fact, I’m leaving specifically because you’re being mean, Suki! And not at all because I want snacks.”

“Sure,” Suki says with a wicked grin. “But while you’re up there, you might as well get me a pretzel.”

Sokka winks at her. “You got it,” he says. “I’ll leave you two kids to chit chat, do try to talk about something other than me while I’m gone– I’d hate for my ears to be ringing the entire night.”

Zuko shakes his head at him, and Sokka beams as he stands up and spins toward the staircase.

* * *

Zuko stares after Sokka even after he starts to disappear in the crowd at the bottom of the stands. “He’s a lot,” he says.

Suki giggles. “Yeah, but he’s a great guy.”

Zuko offers her a small smile, something is familiar about her– comfortable, easy going. He still feels a bit awkward– especially since his new coworkers talk about her so fondly. They talk about her like she’s royalty– their literal queen, according to their Halloween costume. “So… history, huh?”

“More interesting than math, I’d say,” Suki snarks, reaching for her backpack. She pulls out a pair of earmuffs. “Now, Sokka tells me you studied accounting; how did you end up–”

“Wait–” Zuko cuts her off, squinting as he looks at her face. She had just lifted her hair to slide her earmuffs into place. “I know you!”

This makes Suki pause. “I’d hope so,” she says. “We work in the same school.”

Zuko shakes his head. “You went to Kyoshi.”

Suki’s eyes go wide. “Wait, yeah… did you?”

“No,” Zuko says. “My sister went to your rival school–”

“Roku Academy,” Suki snarls.

“Yeah,” Zuko nods. “I recognize you from the volleyball team– you were their middle hitter.”

“Oh geez, back when my hair was _long_.” Suki groans. “And those uniforms– so uncomfortable!”

Zuko’s silence makes Suki continue. “So I’m guessing your sister played then, what was her name?”

“Azula.”

Suki immediately starts laughing. “That psycho was your sister?” she gasps between breaths.

“Still is,” Zuko says, wry smirk tugging at his lips.

“We called her Scorch Mark,” Suki deadpans. “She hit a girl on our team in the face with one of her serves– she had a black and blue for over a week!”

“I remember that game,” Zuko winces. “She literally knocked her out.”

“Anyways, tell her I say hey,” Suki says with a grin. Then, Suki’s face falls. “Wait… if you’re her sister, that means your father is…”

Zuko turns away from her. “Yeah,” he sighs. “Azula’s working with him at Fire Nation Financial.”

Suki lays a hand on his shoulder. “So the reason you became a teacher is because your dad didn’t take you in at his own accounting firm?”

Zuko scoots away from her. Suki’s hand falls, and she brings it to her lap. Zuko can’t meet her gaze. “That’s the gist of it.” He says sullenly.

“Oh Zuko…” she says. “Do the others know?”

Zuko shakes his head. “I haven’t told them who my father is.” He explains. “I came here for a fresh start.”

Suki nods sympathetically, and leans away from him. “It’s a small school, Zuko.” Suki reminds him. “And your dad’s firm is huge– he sponsors the state’s Educator of Year Gala.”

Zuko grimaces. He’s well aware. In fact, his father only started sponsoring the gala 5 years ago so that he could hold it over his head. Both he and Zuko knew that Zuko could never earn educator of the year– not at his old school, not at his new school, nor any school that Zuko could ever work in. His father’s voice echoes in his head:

 _“You’re not a failed ‘accountant’, Zuko.”_ He leers. “ _You **are** a failure. This one is just your most recent.”_

Once he had begun his studies toward his degree in education, Ozai had begun this sponsorship as a lofty, unattainable goal to float over his head. Zuko would never reap the benefits of his father’s charitable donations, because he would never become good enough to be recognized as a successful teacher.

“My point being,” Suki continues. “This isn’t going to stay a secret for long, Ozai Embers is a household name. You’re lucky that you’ve gotten this far without anybody putting it together.”

“You _are_ too smart,” Zuko sighs, remembering the glowing recommendations from the rest of her circle. “Don’t tell Sokka.” He pleads. His muscles are starting to ache from the unexpected stress– not to mention the biting cold. He belatedly realizes that the game is already underway, and he thanks the bustle of the crowd around him that Katara and Toph hadn’t overhead them.

Suki looks out over toward the concession stand and Zuko follows her gaze. He finds Sokka standing a few feet away from the line, chatting with what appears to be a group of alumni. He then is pulling them around him as a third party snaps a picture. “That’s my best friend,” he hears Suki say; he turns back to her. “We don’t keep secrets from each other.”

And Zuko _wants_ to understand what that’s like, so he nods sadly, resigned.

Suki sighs. “But–” he lifts his head to meet her eyes again, she’s smiling sadly. “I’ll give you some time to tell them yourself. You can trust them.”

Zuko finds Sokka again, this time he’s at the bottom of a human pyramid. He can’t help but grin. “I do trust them,” he realizes. “It’s just… they’re going to have questions.”

And Zuko can’t answer those questions, not yet. They’ll want to know if his father can sponsor any of the upcoming fundraisers, if he can donate equipment to the sports team. He doesn’t want to explain why he can’t even ask his father for these things. Why he already knows the answer.

Suki nods. “I think they trust you, too,” she says finally. “And they’ll respect you if you don’t want to go into detail. Just… I think they want to know more about you, and I’m sure that holding all of your secrets only causes you harm.”

 _Ouch_.

Zuko doesn’t necessarily believe that his new coworkers particularly trust him that much, but he is struck by just how good Suki is at reading him. Maybe _this_ secret he can levy– especially since Suki pointed out that it was doomed to be discovered anyways, but the others… they’re his armor. They protect him, even if they are very heavy.

“Hey,” Suki calls to him. He sees her reach into her backpack once again, this time pulling out a Navy sweatshirt blanket. “Come here,” she offers, tucking one side of the blanket under her leg and holding up the other.

Zuko is too cold and too hollow to refuse, so he slides closer and accepts the offered warmth. “Thanks,” he says, and hopes she knows that it’s more than just for the blanket.

“No problem,” she says, bumping his shoulder. Their thighs are touching, and Zuko can tell that Suki adequately layered up, unlike him. “So take out your phone, this is what I want you to tell Azula…” she waits as he wiggles to retrieve his phone from his back pocket. “Ready? Okay, type: ‘Sup Scorch Mark? Crush any cheek bones lately?’ …Send!”

Zuko sends the text message, and slips his phone into the pocket of his hoodie. “She’s calmed down a bit since high school,” he offers.

“Gosh, I hope so!” Suki laughs. “She was _crazy_ scary!”

“Funny, you don’t seem like you’re scared of anything,” Zuko says fondly.

“I’m not,” Suki shrugs, squaring her shoulders. “But in high school– yikes! No one wanted to be on serve-receive with her on the line.”

Zuko chuckles as his phone buzzes in his pocket. He pulls it out and unlocks it to show it to Suki.

> Azula: _I see you’ve made friends with a Kyoshi princess_.

Suki scoffs and snatches the phone from his hands.

> **_Kyoshi *Warrior. Your brother tells me you’ve gone soft._ **

Zuko rolls his eyes, but Suki holds the phone and Azula texts back instantly. Zuko tilts his head to see better, and Suki tilts the phone towards him.

> Azula: _Tell my brother he can borrow someone else’s Netflix login_
> 
> Azula: _Which one am I speaking with?_
> 
> _**Suki, number 9.**_
> 
> Azula: _Ah, you actually weren’t terrible. Too bad your team didn’t get to play that much_
> 
> _**Yes you truly sound broken up about this**_
> 
> Azula: _Maybe not, but good rivals are hard to find._

Suki’s wicked grin is back as she types her reply, Zuko lifts his head and sees Sokka making his way back up to them in the stands. He’s holding a pretzel, a cup of noodles, and a styrofoam cup. Zuko smiles at him, before turning his head back to the text messages.

> **_Shame you’re not coaching, my team would crush yours_ **
> 
> Azula: _Ah, you coach at Zuzu’s school_

“Zuzu?” Suki chuckles.

“Shut up,” Zuko mutters.

> Azula: _Perhaps you’ll still get the chance to redeem yourself, in the Blue Lightning Tournament_
> 
> **Not this year, I couldn’t scrape a team together**

“I’m baaack,” Sokka calls, suddenly standing behind the both of them. He hands Zuko the paper cup before squeezing his leg between their shoulders. “Scooch over,” he says. “My ass is _frosty_.”

Zuko rolls his eyes but complies, and slides over to allow Sokka to slide in between them. He selfishly holds on to his end of the blanket, and Suki does the same as she switches to one-hand texting. Once Sokka is settled in, Zuko wraps both his hands around the cup, amazed by and thankful for its warmth.

“Didja miss me?” Sokka asks, leaning on his head on Suki’s.

“Terribly,” she says without lifting her gaze.

Sokka tears off a piece of what was _supposed_ to be Suki’s pretzel and pops it in his mouth. “Who ya texting?”

“Zuko’s sister,” Suki says. “She was the volleyball captain at our rival school, and I wanted to talk smack.”

“Your sister is Scorch Mark??” Sokka says with a gasp. And Zuko nods into his cup. Yeesh. The two of them really _do_ tell each other everything. “Small world,” Sokka marvels.

“No kidding.” Suki says, finally accepting the pretzel from Sokka. “And now– we’re going to be teammates, Azula has a space on her team for this year’s volleyball tournament, and I’m going to put her in her place.”

“Ah I see!” Sokka snaps his fingers. “If you can’t beat ‘em.. join ‘em!”

Suki rolls her eyes. “I’ll beat her next year when I can get some more of my girls together.” She leans forward to address Zuko. “I just texted Azula my number– also sent a text to myself from your phone, so be sure to save it!”

Zuko extends his hand to accept his phone back, when Sokka plucks it from Suki’s grasp. He hands Suki his cup of noodles so he could type in it. Then, Zuko feels the bench vibrate and suddenly stop. “And now–” Sokka hands his phone back to Zuko in a flourish. “You have mine, too.”

The dread creeps up quickly. “And you have mine,” Zuko says slowly. “Which means I get to look forward to you pestering me about going shopping.”

Suki laughs as she hands the noodles back to Sokka. “Okay, but to be fair–” she says. “Sokka wants to take _everyone_ shopping. He’s a great hype man if you give him a little fashion show.”

Sokka nods, gesturing to Suki. “See? Suki gets it. She vouches for me!”

“Fine.” Zuko says before he can think better of it. “If it’ll get you off my back.”

“Hear that Suki?” Sokka says, turning back to her. “I’m 2 for 2! Karaoke night _and_ shopping!!”

“Don’t count your chicken before they hatch,” Suki lectures. “He hasn’t actually done either yet.”

“But he will,” Sokka smiles, wrapping an arm around each Zuko and Suki pulling them close. “Zuko’s a man of his word… am I right?”

Zuko nods, but then he hears Katara’s voice from behind Suki. “Well don’t you three look cozy!” She teases.

“Yeah,” Toph chides. “Guess we know who was the little spoon in _your_ relationship!”

“Ouch,” Suki says, poking Sokka playfully in the ribs. “Looks like _they’ve_ got your number, too!”

Sokka swats her hand away, retreating from their shoulders to eat his cup of noodles. After his first gulp, he says: “Anyone who says they don’t like being the little spoon is a _liar_.”

Their conversations merge as Katara and Toph slide closer. It’s almost half-time, which means Aang will be coming out with the band and color guard shortly to lead their field show. As the end of the quarter buzzes, Zuko turns to Sokka.

“Thanks for the hot cocoa,” he says. “I guess that means I owe you _two_ drinks now.”

Sokka scoffs. “Nah,” he says with a shake of his head. “You can return the favor by not catching your death out here. And maybe by layering up next time you plan on attending an outdoor sports game at night.”

Zuko shrugs. “I’ll do what I can,” he says, but then Sokka elbows him and the two laugh.

* * *

Halloween is probably one of Sokka’s favorite holidays. He loves finding creative ways to recreate something really dumb or bring a very obscure phrase or concept to life. This year, however, the group had wanted to do a group costume, which was completely fine by him. He was relieved that they didn’t go with making him Scooby Doo while the rest of them get to be _people_ in the gang, and disappointed when his idea of going as the Ninja Turtles was rejected.

Still, everything worked out in the end. The Halloween assembly was about halfway through, and all Sokka could think about was gathering up the other members of his deck… hand?... for a group photo. He knew from the look on Aang’s face, even from all the way across the gymnasium, that he was similarly trying to keep himself from forgetting. He could see him and Katara from where he sat, and Suki was sitting a few rows up behind him with her class. Toph and Zuko must be with the Sophomore class, hence out of his line out sight.

“And now, for the results of our Halloween Costume Contest!” booms principal Kuei’s voice. “For the freshman class…”

Sokka groans. Why did they always have to go with the students first? The dance routine and flag shows were equally entertaining, but at this present moment, Sokka felt as if the suspense would kill him, literally. His leg bounced the entire time as grades each celebrated and photographed each winning costume.

Finally, Kuei holds up the envelope that had the name of this year’s Staff Costume contest winner and called to the students ‘Drumroll please…’.

Which was _so_ unfair, because now the entire gym was thrumming as the students stomped against the ancient wooden bleachers. As if Sokka wasn’t nervous enough! Aang shoots him an encouraging thumbs up from the other side.

And okay, maybe he shouldn’t be _nervous_ but he is competitive! And on a 3-year winning streak. He would _not_ let Bumi take the title from this year, even if his Carl Sagan was impressive.

So just to be safe, he closes his eyes and crossed his fingers. The girls who are giggling next to him are just jealous that their lame angel and devil costumes never stood a chance.

“This years winners are…” Sokka’s heart skips a beat. _Winners_. “Team ‘Royal Flush’.”

“Yes!” Sokka jumps up, grabbing Suki by the hand and dragging her down the steps of the bleachers. He sees Toph out of the corner of his eye doing the same to Zuko, as Aang and Katara join them in the middle gym. By now, loud shouts and cheers were coming from the bleachers, only adding to the stomping which had yet to cease.

It makes sense, he thinks, looking around at his friends. All of their students _loved_ them, because frankly, how could they not? His friends were the best, and were all teachers because they were passionate, loving people who wanted to leave the world better than they left it. Even his newest friend, who looks very uncomfortable.

Sokka feels a tinge of sympathy, but overall decides that Zuko, as a teacher, ought to get used to being the center of attention. Hell, Sokka _thrives_ in the limelight. He throws an arm around Zuko and Toph when they reach him, waving up at his fans– erm, _students_. Toph similarly flexes under attention, but Zuko’s wave is shy as he whispers to him.

“I guess this is my fault for not assuming this would be a contest,” the math professor says dryly.

“I play to win,” Sokka says instead. “And besides, you should be enjoying this moment, they _love_ us!”

“They love _you_ ,” Zuko corrects, turning to look over his shoulder at the rest of their group. “I’m just part of the package deal today.”

“Hey, enough of that!” Sokka says, knocking his knee against him. “ _We_ love you, and as soon as you let these kids see the real you, they will too.”

From his peripheral vision, he sees Zuko turn his head to look at him, expression unreadable.

“Snoozles is right,” Toph chimes in. “You’re not so bad, we wouldn’t put up with your self-loathing if you _actually_ sucked.”

This somehow actually makes Zuko smile, even if it’s a bit wry, so he supposes Toph _sort_ of helped.

“Anyways,” Sokka says, pushing off his friends. “You need to be right _here_ ,” he slides Zuko over so that he’s shoulder-to-shoulder with Toph. “And you…” he darts off to grab Suki and slides her in place next to Zuko. “…here!”

“We know the order of the cards, _Sokka_ ,” Suki smirks. It’s loud enough in the gym that she doesn’t even bother to use his ‘teacher name’.

“Good to see you again,” Zuko says awkwardly as Suki loops an arm behind him.

“Likewise."

Katara and Aang settle into their places, and Sokka runs over next to Aang, smiles at the camera, and–

“Wait!” Sokka cries, holding up his arm. He ignores his friends as they all groan– spare for Zuko, who clearly doesn’t know well enough to expect this yet.

He steps next to the photographer, pointing at Aang, then Katara, Suki…

 _Guy, girl, girl, guy, girl…_ he thinks. **_Guy_** _, guy, girl, girl, guy, girl? OR Guy, girl, girl, guy, girl, **guy!?**_

He puts together the mental pictures– admittedly difficult since all of his friends are glaring at him– compares them, and then runs to stand next to Toph. **_Definitely_** _guy, girl, girl, guy, girl, guy!_ “Cheese!” he cries and he hears his friends echo.

Ty Lee comes to stand next to the photographer, and he remembers. “Wait!!!” He yells again.

This time, Zuko groans with them, especially as the group was just about ready to disperse. Sokka digs his phone out from his back pocket and runs it over to Ty Lee before running back to Toph.

Ty Lee raises the phone, longways, of course, and Sokka says “Cheese!” once more. The group echo lacks its original energy, but he’s cheesin’ hard, always.

“Okay! Now a silly one!”

“You’ve _got_ to be kidding me,” Zuko whines.

“Sorry, not today!” Sokka chirps. “Faster you do it, faster we’re done!” This seems to spur everyone on. Sokka makes his funniest face, giving Toph bunny ears as the camera snaps once more. “Look at the camera first, _then_ my phone, two more, tops!!”

It wasn’t two more, but Sokka _did_ try his best. Honest! Ty Lee runs his phone back over to him, and by now much of the noise has died down to a quiet murmur; as the students resume to chit-chatting amongst themselves. Sokka pulls up the photo and he feels everyone huddle around him to look. He thanks Ty Lee, who like him, likes to just smash the ‘capture’ button in the hopes that one will be good. As he scrolls, Katara’s voice calls “Ugh, delete that one!”

“No way!” Sokka replies. “The rest of us look great, I’m keeping it!”

“What Sokka means to say is, ‘ _We all_ ’ look great!” Aang tries.

“Nah, she’s mid blink in this one– it’s awful.” He zooms in on Katara’s face.

“I hate you,” Katara grumbles.

“Am I at least facing at the camera in most of them?” Toph asks from behind him.

“You’re good,” Suki confirms. “Most of them came out nice!”

Sokka hums his agreement but then stops on one in particular. “Awwww…” he hears Aang coo. “That’s it! That’s the one!”

“Oh come on Twinkle Toes,” Toph teases. “It’s a photo, not an engagement ring.”

Aang stammers. “It’s a great photo!”

“It is,” Zuko says quietly. “Can you send it to me?”

Sokka smiles at the photo in his hands. In this one they _do_ all look great. They’re all looking at the same camera, smiling in earnest. Even Zuko looks unapologetically happy. “Yeah,” he says. “I’ll send them out to everyone when I get home later.”

Everyone sounds okay with this, so they return to their respective bleachers. Sokka shows the photo to some of the students who ask to see it, and to a ton who didn’t.

* * *

Back at home, Sokka throws his laptop case onto his bed and sits down next to it. His gym bag slides off his shoulder to the floor.

He has several text messages in the group chat.

> Katara: _SOKKA delete that photo I swear to Tui and La!!!_
> 
> Toph: _Sokka, cherish that photo. It makes Katara really mad._
> 
> Katara: _No one asked you, Toph._
> 
> Suki: _Seriously Sokka, I thought you were going to send us those pics?_
> 
> Aang: _He’s probably still at the gym. Beefy boi._
> 
> Katara: _More like still flexing in the mirror. Also… ew._
> 
> Toph: _Aang giving up on veganism like…_
> 
> Suki: _Y’all need help._

Sokka rolls his eyes. He was about to send them all the pictures, snarky comment in mind, and then he remembered Zuko had asked for the pics as well.

So Sokka adds him into the group chat, and then sends all 17 variants of the same pic. He keeps his phone open on the bed as everyone starts “reacting” to each one. Aang “hearts” every single one, Suki “hearts” only her favorites, Katara “dislikes” the one where she’s blinking and someone apparently helped Toph find the one she hates and gave a “heart” for that same photo.

Later, as he’s getting dinner ready, he hears his phone blow up again.

He plates his dinner for one and opens the preview window to see the stack of messages in the group chat, starting from the bottom. Zuko was the first person to reply (with actual words) to the photos.

> Zuko: _Nice_
> 
> Aang: _OH MY GOSH ZUKO IS THAT YOU??_
> 
> Katara: _The king has graced us with his presence!_
> 
> Toph: _Watch out, Aang is going to stalk you now. You’ll get a Facebook friend request from him in 10 minutes_
> 
> Aang: _Great idea!_
> 
> Suki: _Welcome, Zuko!_
> 
> Zuko: _=)_
> 
> Katara: _wtf is that_
> 
> Katara: _no one has seen a unicode smiley in over 100 years_
> 
> Aang: _O_O_
> 
> Aang: _=P_
> 
> Aang _: @o@_
> 
> Toph _: The text-to-speech on those are wilin’_
> 
> Suki: _=3_
> 
> _A_ ang: _oooOoo good one, Suki! I forgot that one_
> 
> Suki: _my fave_
> 
> Katara: _Suki noooo_

Sokka laughs at his friends antics, watching the messages rise up on his phone. Then, a banner comes across the top: a direct message from Zuko.

> Zuko: _Why would you do this to me_

Sokka grins as he types his reply.

> **_do what?_**
> 
> Zuko: _You know what_
> 
> Zuko: _This group chat is going to be the death of me_
> 
> _omg are you always this dramatic?_
> 
> Zuko: _I don’t deserve this_
> 
> Zuko: _My phone battery just dropped by 20%_
> 
> _**oh no! what a terrible thing to happen when you’re at home surrounded by outlets!** _
> 
> Zuko: _You’re the worst_
> 
> _**; ]** _
> 
> Zuko: _> =(_

Sokka smiles at the message, he’s not sure why Zuko’s perpetual grumpiness is so entertaining.

Admittedly, his own phone battery is running on E, so he locks his phone and reaches for his own charger. The screen lights up once more as the charger connects, flashing the battery percentage briefly before displaying his new background photo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and Kudos appreciated! 
> 
> **Next Chapter** : Karaoke Night! And other stuff :)


End file.
